


Double Handshake

by lasersheith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Valentine’s Day, blink and you miss it mattor, cooking disasters, cw for a small mishap with a paring knife and a few sentences about blood (not very graphic), now get ready for disaster gay sheith, roommate matt, warning: bad puns, you've heard of disaster gay shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22944190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/pseuds/lasersheith
Summary: “I’m… I’m so sorry, Keith,” Shiro said, not sure if the way his voice broke was because of a laugh or a sob. “This has been such a disaster, I just wanted to have a romantic night with you… I promise I’m usually a much better cook.”Keith laughed and squeezed his shoulder a little tighter. “Shiro, this is the most fun I’ve ever had. Last Valentine’s day I got kicked out of an Olive Garden. Trust me, this is way better.”Shiro sighed and tried to chuckle, but the sound was weak and forced, even to his own ears. He let his head drop down to his chest in defeat.“Hey,” Keith murmured, so quietly Shiro almost couldn’t hear. Keith lifted his chin with his bandaged finger until their eyes met. “How about that kiss?”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 106
Collections: Sheithlentines 2020





	Double Handshake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdlife4eva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/gifts).



> Happy Sheithlentines 2020! I was so thrilled to get this prompt and tried to incorporate everything on the wishlist: Domestic Sheith, Fluff and Humor, cooking together (and it's a disaster), first kiss fics are some of my favorites! 
> 
> I couldn't have asked for a better prompt from a better person 😘
> 
> Show my amazing promptee some love [on twitter!](https://twitter.com/NeRdLife4Eva) and come check me out [while you're there ;)](https://twitter.com/lasersheith)

“Hey, Matt?” Shiro called from the kitchen, head still stuffed into the refrigerator he was frantically organizing. 

Matt didn’t respond, but the music from the video game blaring on the TV in their living room quieted to a dull roar, which was enough acknowledgement to be going on with. 

“I’m probably going to have Keith over next Friday, any chance you could make yourself scarce?” Shiro grimaced as he ripped the family-size ketchup bottle from the bottom shelf with a sickening squelch of dried ketchup mixed with something faintly bioluminescent that he didn’t care to dwell on. The fridge adventure had started with an entire roll of paper towels and container of bleach wipes; both were nearing halfway gone at this point and Shiro still had the rest of the bottom shelf to go. 

“You got a hot Valentine’s day date planned?” Matt asked in a mocking sing-song, suddenly right behind him.

Shiro jumped and smacked the back of his head on a shelf, swearing and rubbing the sore spot as he extricated himself from the refrigerator. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “We both like to cook, so I figured it would be nice to have Keith come over instead of going out somewhere crowded or having to get all dressed up.” 

Thinking about Keith in a nice suit was more than pleasant, but Shiro didn’t want to put all the pressure of an elaborate, fancy evening on either of them. They’d only been dating for a few weeks, and while they’d already had the beginnings of an exclusivity talk, Shiro was understandably nervous and giddy about the new relationship. 

Matt grinned a wicked grin and Shiro mentally prepared himself for extra bathroom cleaning duties or having to attend another terrible _Magic: The Gathering_ competition as Matt’s _official card boy._ It would be well worth it for a quiet, romantic night with his new boyfriend, but it also made Shiro seriously consider if splitting the rent was worth such a compromise. 

“Oh man, are you guys gonna finally hit second base?” Matt goaded. “What is that for you, anyway? _Double handshaking?”_

Shiro groaned and buried his face in his hands. After his second date with Keith, Shiro had panicked - instead of going for a hug or being bold and going for a kiss, he’d stuck out his hand and given Keith a firm handshake before turning and running back to his car. He’d texted Matt immediately, devastated and sure he’d ruined things with Keith forever. Keith, of course, had found it charming somehow, and happily agreed to their third date the previous weekend. A kiss would have been the perfect ending to a romantic walk around the small lake at the edge of town, followed by ice cream, but Shiro had chickened out and hugged him goodbye instead. Thankfully, Keith didn’t seem to mind in the slightest and had enthusiastically agreed to spend Valentine’s day at Shiro’s house. 

“Ugh, you really are the worst sometimes,” Shiro muttered, turning back to the mess in the fridge. 

Matt laughed and patted him on the back. “Nah, I was gonna crash at Lotor’s place anyway. Seriously though, you need to lock that twink down, man. At least seal it with a kiss.” 

All of the blood in Shiro’s body rushed to his face. “Great. He’s coming over at 6:00, just make sure you’re gone by then,” he finally stammered, pointedly ignoring the rest of Matt’s statement. 

Matt rolled his eyes and thankfully left Shiro to finish cleaning out the fridge. Soon the sounds of his game were back to full blast and Shiro let out a sigh before retrieving another bleach wipe and getting back to work. 

* * *

Friday arrived in hardly the blink of an eye. Shiro had finished making his refrigerator presentable and fully stocked it with all the ingredients needed for a delicious steak dinner, including a fancy wine that Hunk had convinced him was a “perfect congruent pairing” and would “amplify the shared flavor components.” Hunk had almost never led Shiro astray in the food department, so he took his friend’s advice even though it sounded indistinguishable from gibberish to him. 

Shiro had spent ages ironing his favorite red button-down shirt and black slacks even though they were staying in; it seemed equal parts silly and necessary as he alternated between sitting on the couch and pacing around the living room waiting for Keith to arrive. 

“Maybe you should try not being… like that,” Matt said with a grimace as Shiro sat back down on the couch for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Maybe you should try not being here,” Shiro retorted, pulling his phone out to check the time again. 

Matt sighed and stood up. He brushed invisible lint from his wrinkled pants with a flourish and held his arms out for a moment before setting his fists on his hips. “Well I can see when I’m not wanted. I’ll just go.” His voice broke with feigned emotion. 

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Tell Lotor hi for me.” 

“Psh, like we’re gonna talk,” Matt scoffed. He grabbed Shiro’s shoulder and gave it a gentle, friendly shake. “It’s gonna go great, dude. Keith is nuts about you. You got this.” 

Shiro sighed again and looked up at him with a forced smile. “Thanks. I’m sure it will.” 

With one last squeeze to his friend’s arm, Matt left the living room. Soon the only sounds in the modest house were the garage door closing and Shiro’s heart pounding in his ears. 

After a few moments, he stood up again and straightened out his shirt. He briefly considered changing and almost started heading to his bedroom when the doorbell rang. 

Shiro bounded to the door and paused, taking a deep breath and letting the thought of Keith being on the other side bring a small smile to his lips before he opened it. 

The dying light of the sun was just barely hanging on, bathing Keith in a soft light that sent Shiro’s heart racing all over again. In one hand he held a small bouquet of yellow roses tipped in red like a sunset and the smile on his face was shy but still somehow so full. Shiro’s chest ached with fondness. 

“Keith,” he all but whispered, letting the door fall open on the slightly wayward hinges. 

Keith’s smile grew and his eyes sparkled a deep violet in the porchlight. “Happy Valentine’s day, Shiro,” he said softly, holding the flowers out a little farther. 

Shiro reached for them and pulled Keith into a one-armed hug, just barely avoiding crushing the bouquet between them. He leaned back after allowing himself a long moment to bask in Keith’s warmth and appreciate the scent of his cologne mixed with the fragrant blossoms. 

“Thank you,” Shiro replied breathlessly, taking another step back and ushering Keith inside.

Keith passed the doorway and toed off his shoes, letting out a quiet chuckle. 

Shiro raised an eyebrow and hummed in question. 

“Oh we’re…” Keith brought his hand up in front of his chest and gestured quickly downward. “Same outfit, right down to the socks.” 

They laughed together quietly and a little uncomfortably. Shiro shuffled his socks against the carpet, desperate to come up with something to say.

“Well, we’re probably wearing different underwear at least.” Shiro’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched as soon as his own words hit his ears. 

Keith’s awkward chuckle turned into a full belly-laugh and he reached over to gently swat at Shiro’s arm. “We should focus on dinner before we worry about underwear.” 

“Yeah,” Shiro stammered, “Ha, of course. Right. The uh, the kitchen is right this way.” He led Keith through the living room and gestured around them as he dug the only vase he and Matt owned out of the dusty corner of a high cabinet. 

“It’s not much, but it does the trick,” Shiro said with a shy smile as he filled the vase and set the flowers on the countertop. 

Keith nodded appreciatively. “No, it’s a good setup.” 

The compliment brought a flush to Shiro’s cheeks and he chuckled dismissively. “Do you want a drink or anything before we get started? That friend I was telling you about, Hunk, he recommended this wine to go with our recipe. We could have a little sneak preview?” 

“Shit,” Keith mumbled under his breath, shaking his head. 

Shiro paled, suddenly horrified at the thought he might have accidentally offended Keith somehow. “Oh, do you not drink? It’s totally fine, we don-” 

Keith interrupted him with a laugh. “No, no. I bought a bottle to bring with me,” he said with an embarrassed shrug. “Must have been too focused on the flowers, it’s still sitting on my kitchen table.” 

All of the anxiety washed out of Shiro’s body and butterflies erupted in his stomach. “You can save it for when we cook at your place,” he replied softly, gaze flitting down to meet Keith’s. 

Keith’s shy smile set his heartbeat racing. “Sounds perfect.” 

Shiro covered his mouth with his hand and cleared his throat to hide the sappy grin he could feel spreading across his face. “Well, let’s get started then.” 

At Keith’s hum of approval, Shiro pulled the wine and most of the ingredients they’d need from the fridge. Their fingertips brushed as Shiro handed the bottle to Keith and his heart leapt into his throat. Choking it down, he nodded to the drawer containing the corkscrew so Keith could pour their glasses while he finished setting everything out. 

They clinked their glasses together in a wordless toast and each took a healthy swig. Shiro could feel heat rushing to his face at the first sip; he’d never been much of a drinker. 

“Hunk knows his wine,” Keith complimented with a satisfied nod. 

Shiro grinned, setting his glass down to begin washing the vegetables. “He really does. Brilliant engineer by day, visionary chef by night,” he said, chuckling. 

Keith laughed along as he took the clean asparagus from Shiro so he could move on to the potatoes. “He’s like, culinary Batman or something.” 

“Remind me to text him that later, he’d love it.” 

A freshly-washed potato almost slipped out of his grasp as Shiro handed it over to Keith, but they managed to catch it together, nearly threading their fingers in the process. Shiro’s face heated and he had to fight down the urge to pull his hand away as though he’d been burned. The feeling of Keith’s fingers against his again so soon after the wine bottle incident was almost too much to bear. 

Inwardly chastising himself for being some kind of sexually-repressed Victorian romance novel protagonist about to faint from the vapors for something as simple as a brush of the hand, Shiro cleared his throat and quietly thanked Keith for the nice teamwork. Keith’s reply of what a good team they made almost had another spud rocketing from Shiro’s grip. 

Somehow Shiro found it in himself to temper his reaction to a shy smile and a nod, leading Keith over to the counter across from the sink where his large wooden cutting board sat. He lined the asparagus up to neatly chop the ends and paused. “Oh, would you mind turning on the stove? The pan’s already on the burner, they’re labeled.” 

Keith nodded and set about the assigned task. Soon the tell-tale click click click _woosh_ of the gas range igniting seemed to echo through the quiet kitchen. 

“Sorry it’s too cold to grill, I know steak is usually better that way, but,” Shiro said with a sigh, gesturing outside the window to the freshly fallen snow in the backyard. 

Keith shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s fine, s’all about how you sear it anyway.” He smiled and tucked a wayward lock of hair that had escaped the small elastic at the nape of his neck behind his ear. 

Shiro’s chest ached as the thought struck him; someday (soon, if he played his cards right) he might be the one doing that. That led him to thinking about how soft Keith’s hair looked, how good it had smelled when they’d hugged. Hugging Keith was like melting into a warm bubble bath after a long day. There was something so ethereally soothing about his presence that Shiro just couldn’t place. 

Unfortunately, the thought of a bath and Keith together had his mind going in an altogether different direction than he would have liked, but was powerless to stop. Before he could refocus himself, Shiro panicked and slid the knife down hard into the chopping block with his prosthetic. He’d done exactly that motion at least a thousand times, but that time he’d been too distracted to properly gauge his strength and cringed as he felt the knife slide through the wood like warm butter. 

“Shit,” he grumbled under his breath, finally looking away from Keith to stare at the destruction he’d wrought. 

“Oh wow… you’re really strong,” Keith said with an awkward laugh. 

Keith looked between Shiro and the knife a few times, eyes wide and brows furrowed. Shiro could feel himself blushing from the tips of his ears to the hollow of his throat. A long moment of silence stretched between them. 

“Sorry, uh,” Shiro stammered, “Sometimes the arm needs calibrating…” It was a weak excuse and he knew it, but there was no way he was admitting what had actually caused the lapse in attention.

Instead of dwelling on it, Shiro slapped his left hand down on the wood and took the handle of the knife in his prosthetic. He wondered briefly if his arm really did need recalibrating as he tugged; it was so far into the wood he was worried what would happen if he pulled any harder. Wiggling seemed to have little effect. 

“Want me to try?” Keith offered, the corner of his lip pulling up into an uncomfortable smile. 

Shiro shrugged and stepped aside. Keith took his place, setting his own hand down where Shiro’s had been and pulled hard at the knife. With a mighty grunt that Shiro was sure he’d remember until the day he died, Keith pulled the knife free. Part of the knife, at least, Shiro realized a second later as Keith’s eyes grew wide in shock and he turned apologetically to his host. 

“I’m so sorry… I can buy you a new one, can’t believe I did that…'' Keith shook his head, but his wide, apologetic eyes never left Shiro’s. 

Shiro couldn’t contain the small burst of laughter that bubbled up from his chest. “It’s really not a big deal. I have another knife just like it, and that blade’ll come free with some oil. We can just use one of the plastic cutting boards.” He took the broken handle from Keith’s grip and tossed it into the trash can. 

Keith sighed and his rigid posture seemed to relax, though not without another apology. Shiro reassured him that it was all fine and soon they were back to chit-chatting and having a good time. Soon the asparagus was properly seasoned and laid out on the baking tray, ready to be popped in the oven as soon as it finished preheating.

“Alright,” Shiro said, not hiding the self-satisfaction in his voice, “The asparagus is perfect, time to move on to the potatoes.” 

“Yes Chef,” Keith replied with a smirk, setting them both off on another laughing fit. 

When they’d calmed down after a few moments, Shiro dug through the knife drawer again to find two paring knives. They set the bowl of clean potatoes on the counter and dragged the trash can between them to set about peeling. 

A comfortable silence washed over them as they stood together; the only sounds were the knives scraping and the peels hitting the plastic of the garbage bag. Shiro couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so content. 

“You know,” Shiro started, not looking up from the task at hand, “This is really nice. Cooking with Hunk is fun but he can be kind of intense, and Matt is more likely to use the kitchen for science experiments than anything edible. With you it’s just… really nice.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Keith replied quietly. 

Shiro paused to turn his eyes to Keith, but Keith was still looking down at his hands. He wanted to ask what was on Keith’s mind, or make a bad joke, but he couldn’t think of anything at all to say. Just as Shiro had nearly found the courage to ask if Keith was alright, the corner of his mouth ticked up into a smirk. 

“Okay, what?” Shiro asked, feigning just a hint of annoyance. 

Keith put his freshly peeled potato back in the bowl and picked up another one, smirk blossoming into a full on grin. “I uh...” his cheeks flushed and Shiro waited with mounting anxiety to see how Keith would finish his sentence. “I was wondering if you were gonna peel more potatoes or just be a… spec-tater.” 

The pun hit him like a punch to the gut; all of the air flew from Shiro’s lungs in a pained groan that turned into an almost angry laugh. He snatched a potato out of the bowl and shook his head furiously. 

“That was horrible, you should be ashamed of yourself,” he teased, still struggling to contain his laughter. 

Keith chuckled, still not meeting Shiro’s gaze as he worked. “Well, as long as you still respect me in the morning…” 

Shiro choked on the laugh halfway out of his throat and swallowed hard. “Keith, I…” He cleared his throat and stared down at his feet. “I will _always_ respect you.” 

“Shit!” Keith hissed, drawing Shiro’s eyes immediately. Both knives clattered to the floor and Shiro practically dove to Keith’s side. 

One potato landed firmly in the trash and the other bounced off the tile and rolled away, lost under a cabinet. Keith’s finger was bleeding, a slow trickle staunched by the pressure of his other hand pressed against the wound. 

“Shit!” Shiro echoed, holding Keith’s hands in his. “Here, run it under the faucet, I’ll go get the first aid kit,” he directed as calmly as he could, leading Keith to the sink. 

He bounded to the bathroom, retrieved his stash of emergency supplies and was back at Keith’s side in seconds. Tearing open the box so quickly one of the plastic clasps popped off, falling to the floor to join the missing potato in parts unknown, Shiro dug out the antibiotic ointment and a fistful of gauze. 

“Can I see?” Shiro asked softly, holding out one hand toward Keith. 

Keith let out a shaky breath and set his wet hand in Shiro’s. The worst of the bleeding was over and the cut wasn’t as deep as he’d feared. “Probably fine,” Keith dismissed quietly. “Mostly just embarrassed.” 

Shiro shook his head and pressed the gauze lightly to the wound to dry it out. “It happens, you should see Hunk’s hands. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have any fingerprints left.” 

Keith smiled as Shiro carefully put the ointment on his cut and wrapped a bandage around it. “Who knew cooking was so dangerous?” 

Shiro grinned back at him, still holding Keith’s hand in his own. Something that sounded an awful lot like Matt in his head was screaming _kiss him, do it! Do it now!_ So Shiro took Keith’s hand and slowly raised it to his lips, pressing them gently against the bandage before releasing it. He was sure his own face was the mirror of Keith’s: cheeks blazing red and smiling softly with wide eyes of disbelief. 

He cleared his throat and shut off the still-running faucet. “So uh, we’re gonna be a little light on potatoes,” Shiro said to break the awkward silence. 

Keith laughed and apologized, but Shiro assured him it was fine. He made quick work of the rest of the potatoes and set them on the stove to boil. They chatted about mundane things while the food cooked, set the asparagus in the oven when it was time, and enjoyed each other’s company until the timer went off. 

Shiro drained the water out of the pot and added them to a mixing bowl while Keith poured in cream and softened butter. He and Keith reached for the mixer already laid out on the counter at the same time. 

“I feel bad, you’ve done most of the work so far,” Keith said with a laugh. 

Shiro chuckled and shrugged. “I don’t mind. Your hand probably needs to rest for a while.” 

“I’ll start the steaks, then,” Keith suggested, holding his uninjured hand over the pan already warming on the stove. “Pan’s just about ready.” 

Shiro nodded, still smiling. “Perfect. Team work.” 

They laughed together and set about their tasks. The smell of the meat cooking was heavenly as it mixed with the roasting vegetables and melted butter. Keith’s presence at his side was the cherry on top of it all. 

Shiro clicked the mixer to _off_ and added some salt and pepper and a few spices to liven things up, with another dash of cream for good measure. “Potatoes are almost done, how are the steaks?” 

Keith turned to him and gave him a thumbs up, his finger sticking out at an awkward angle because of the bandage. 

“And how’s the hand?” Shiro asked, setting the mixer to its lowest setting. 

“It doesn’t even hurt anymore,” Keith replied with a shy smile. “Must have been the kiss.” 

Shiro’s heart slammed against his ribs and his thumb slipped, pressing hard against the sliding button of the mixer. Before he knew what was happening, the bowl erupted, creamy mashed potatoes flew across the kitchen, covering everything and everyone in their path. It only took a second, two at the most, for Shiro to rip the plug from the wall, but even that was too slow. 

Shiro blinked a glob out of his eyes and stared at Keith like a deer in headlights. Keith blinked a few times in shock. Slowly the shock turned to understanding, and then amusement. His shy smile exploded into a wide grin, followed quickly by a full-body laugh that shook his shoulders and had him doubling over, clutching at his sides. 

The laughter was infectious. Shiro couldn’t contain himself in the slightest after watching Keith fall apart. They laughed together for what felt like ages, until they were so out of breath the wheezing exhales sounded almost like sobs. Keith pulled himself together first, clearing his throat and shaking his head as the last of the absurdity melted away. Shiro followed, eyes wet with tears and throat bone dry. 

Keith sighed and smiled with a fond, far-away look in his eyes as he watched Shiro take the final sip of his second glass of wine. It seemed so ridiculous, both of them standing there in the utterly wrecked kitchen, dripping with cream, looking at each other with such adoration. 

While he was admiring every detail about Keith’s face, Shiro couldn’t help but reach out to brush away a clump of potato that had survived the mixer’s fury and lodged itself in Keith's hair. They were so close to each other that Shiro could feel the warmth radiating from Keith’s core and he knew that this was his moment, as insane as it was. 

“Keith,” he whispered, “Can I kiss you?” 

Keith’s smile widened. “We should probably put the fire out first.” 

“Fire?” Shiro had just finished asking when the smoke alarm went off. 

Swearing, he turned away from Keith and wrenched open one of the cabinets, a sea of pots and pans sliding out onto the mushy tile. Far in the back was a small fire extinguisher, and Shiro grabbed it, quickly read the instructions and aimed it at the stove. 

Keith had turned the burner off and opened the window and was busy using a towel to direct the smoke away from the detector and out into the freezing night. 

Foam fizzled pathetically out of the ancient extinguisher at first, and then it shot like lightning out of the nozzle, covering the entire stove top. After a few seconds the alarm stopped beeping and Shiro set the expended can down on the floor. His ears were ringing and his kitchen was destroyed, but Keith’s hand was on his shoulder and that made things seem like they’d be alright. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Keith,” Shiro said, not sure if the way his voice broke was because of a laugh or a sob. “This has been such a disaster, I just wanted to have a romantic night with you… I promise I’m usually a much better cook.” 

Keith laughed and squeezed his shoulder a little tighter. “Shiro, this is the most fun I’ve ever had. Last Valentine’s day I got kicked out of an Olive Garden. Trust me, this is way better.” 

Shiro sighed and tried to chuckle, but the sound was weak and forced, even to his own ears. He let his head drop down to his chest in defeat. 

“Hey,” Keith murmured, so quietly Shiro almost couldn’t hear. Keith lifted his chin with his bandaged finger until their eyes met. “How about that kiss?” 

Shiro’s head swam and he felt like he was swallowing his heart back into his chest, but he nodded, ducking down to press his lips to Keith’s. They were so soft against his own and he felt all of the tension pour out of his shoulders as they melted together. Their hands roved over potato-covered clothes and hair as their mouths slid against each other. It was more a series of increasingly desperate kisses than just one prolonged, but Shiro couldn’t imagine a more perfect first kiss. 

Until the fire alarm began to scream again. 

“The asparagus,” they groaned in unison. 

Keith resumed his smoke-waving duties as Shiro turned the oven off and then tore it open, not bothering with an oven mitt. He grabbed the smoldering pan with his prosthetic and threw the whole thing out of the still-open window, into the snow-covered yard. 

“That’s one way to do it, I guess,” Keith said with a laugh when the alarm had stopped again. 

Shiro shook his head. “You wanna order some pizza?” 

Keith grinned and grabbed what little remained of their bottle of wine. “Sounds perfect.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I desperately wanted to add Matt coming home hungover at like 3pm the next day only to see Keith's car still in the driveway and the kitchen still destroyed, but I couldn't figure out how to work it in. Maybe next time lmao!


End file.
